If I Only Could
by IndigoNightandRayneStorm
Summary: It was her time, but he refused to let her go. Will the power of their love be enough to defeat death? Alternate season three finally in which Marissa doesn't die. Twoshot.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **If I Only Could

**Author: **IndigoNight

**Summary: **It was her time, but he refused to let her go. Will the power of their love be enough to defeat death?

**Feedback: **Yes please, yay reviews!

**Pairing: **RyanxMarissa

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The OC or the characters I'm just borrowing them for fun. Also do not own the song lyrics at the beginning and end of the chapter.

**Spoilers: **Season three finally, only not.

**Warnings: **None that I can think of.

**Author's Note: **So, it's very sad that Marissa died. I love her. So, I just had to write a fic in which she didn't. Very fluff and angsty and cute. Read, Review, Enjoy!

**Enjoy!**

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_And if I only could  
I'd make a deal with God  
And I'd get him to swap our places_

It felt funny, Ryan realized. What felt funny, he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure where he was, or what was going on either.

It was almost like he was floating, floating through an endless black mist, where there was nothing but pain. It wasn't a sharp pain, and oddly enough, the pain didn't really hurt. It was a sort of numbness, a heavy, aching, thudding throughout his entire body, although he wasn't quite sure 'body' was the right phrase to use, as he couldn't seem to find his.

But whatever it was, he was pretty sure he was dying. Well, that was all right. Marissa had already gone, what more was there left for him but to follow her? That was how it should be. He needed her; he loved her, why shouldn't he follow her into death?

Maybe he was already dead. But for some reason he didn't think so. Not that he really knew what death felt like, but he was pretty sure this wasn't it. If it was, then were was Marissa?

"Marissa?" he tried to call, suddenly possessed by the need to see her, to hear her voice. But his own voice fell flat in the empty nothingness that surrounded him. "Marissa!" he yelled again. He began to struggle against the black, but as he still couldn't quite seem to find his body, he wasn't sure if he was actually moving at all.

Then the darkness was fading. And he heard something, a voice, a beautiful voice, calling him. Slowly he blinked and opened his eyes, to be confronted with the face of an angel hovering over him.

"Marissa," he whispered, frowning. He sat up slowly, looking around at his surroundings, though he found it difficult to tear his gaze away from her face. They were in a hospital, he was lying in a hospital bed, they were both wearing hospital gowns. "I-I thought you had…" he murmured, one hand shakily caressing her cheek, "You died! In my arms." He couldn't believe it. She was alive; he was alive, but how?

"Ryan?" her voice was soft, and beautiful, so beautiful. Ryan was certain he'd never heard more beautiful a sound, "Ryan, something's wrong."

"No," he whispered, pulling her gently closer toward him, "No, nothings wrong. You're here, how could anything be wrong?"

"Ryan, look around," she said anxiously, "We're the _only_ one's here. There's no one else in this entire hospital."

"What?" Ryan frowned, looking around once more. She was right, he realized, they were completely alone. "That isn't possible. This is a hospital, someone has to be here!"

She shook her head. "I wandered around some, while I was waiting for you to wake up. There's no one here."

_No one here._ "Then, where exactly is here, do you think?" he asked. He shifted carefully, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed as though he needed to go verify what she'd said. He still felt odd, not in pain, but as though he knew he should be, like it was there, but it wasn't real, or the other way around. It was rather impossible to explain really. He tried to stand, but he felt dizzy and his knees wobbled under his weight.

"Ryan?" Marissa asked worriedly, quickly grabbing his arm and helping him sit back on the bed. "Are you alright?"

"Just a little… dizzy," Ryan said, frowning and putting a hand to his head, shaking it slightly in hopes of clearing it. "You?"

"I feel fine," she said, still looking worried.

Ryan looked at her, really looked at her. She was perfect. Literally, she didn't seem hurt at all, in fact, it went so far that any traces of acne, every little dent or flaw in her beautiful skin, not that there had ever been many, was gone. Her hair hung perfectly around her face; she wore no make-up, and had never needed it less. It was almost as though she was glowing.

He glanced down at his own hand. It most certainly was not glowing. It was still worn and calloused, still scar from the many fights he'd been in.

"You're right," he agreed, frowning, "Something isn't right." _But what?_ His mind demanded. It seemed to be working slowly, but things were beginning to fall into place.

"We're dead," he whispered, glancing back at her, meeting her eyes. They were dark with fear and sorrow. But it all made sense. She _had_ died, he knew it, he'd held her in her arms while the last breath left her body. Then everything went dark, he must have followed her. He still wasn't quite sure how to explain the brightly lit, but completely uninhabited but for them hospital yet, but he was certain that no hospital in Orange County would ever be this empty.

She slid her small hand into his. "Are we?" she whispered, "Ryan, I don't want to be dead."

"Neither do I," he said, gently wrapping his arms around her. She was scared, but so was he. Neither of them knew what was going on or what to do. So they just sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, waiting for whatever would come next.

After some time Ryan became aware of a sort of change in the air. He glanced up quickly, wary in his unfamiliar surroundings. "Marissa?" he said quietly, leaning back to look at her face. But it was still, her eyes closed. She felt limp, as though she was asleep. "Marissa?" he called again, a slight touch of panic beginning to rise in his voice.

"Don't worry," said a voice behind him, "She'll be alright."

Ryan whirled in surprise at the voice. "Caleb?" he asked, "What are you doing here? Where is here, for that matter?"

"This?" Caleb cast an easy glance around the room, a slight smile on his face, "This is an in between place, Ryan."

"In between what?" Ryan asked slowly, although he was fairly certain he already knew, and didn't want to.

"Life and death," Caleb answered. Ryan cast a critical eye over the old man. He looked somehow… not like himself. Perhaps it was the smile he had rarely worn in life, and now seemed to never leave his lips, or the way he somehow seemed younger than he had been, or was it simply the odd, perfect glow he had about him, the same that Marissa did.

"Well, I don't really intend to die, anymore than I intend to let Marissa," Ryan said, his voice calmer, braver than he felt. He'd always believed that he wasn't afraid to die, but now, face to face with it, perhaps he wasn't _afraid_ exactly, but he really didn't want to die. "So, if you could just tell us how to get back, we'll give your regards to everyone back home."

"Oh, don't worry boy," Caleb told him. That smile was really beginning to become uncanny. "You're leaving."

"Good," Ryan said, then he paused, "_I'm_ leaving? I just said, I'm not going anywhere without Marissa."

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," Caleb sighed. He did look a little sad now, but he was still smiling that damn, peaceful smile, "It isn't your time.

"I'm going where ever she goes," Ryan insisted in determination.

"It's not for you to decide who's going to live and who's going to die," Caleb told him sadly.

"Then who is?" Ryan heard himself asking. The fiery heat of anger was rising in him. "No, don't answer that, I don't care. Either we both go back, or neither of us do," he said firmly.

"Deny it all you want," Caleb told him, "It won't change anything. See, she's fading already." He gestured to Marissa and Ryan whirled.

She lay deathly still, her lips slightly parted, her chest not moving, looking almost unbearably beautiful, as the glow beneath her skin grew brighter.

Ryan grabbed her hand, bending over her, gently kissing her palm, her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids, her lips. "Marissa," he whispered. His heart was throbbing now, it was the only pain he really felt in this cursed place, the pain of his breaking heart. "Marissa, please. Come on; don't leave me. Don't, I need you. You have so much to live for. Please, Marissa, please," he begged as though through the power of his words alone he could bring her back.

Marissa stirred slightly. She felt as though she was trying to swim through something very thick. Slowly, slowly she managed to open her eyes. She smiled softly at the beautiful face floating above her. She knew she should be scared, she knew she should be in pain, she should be fighting this, but she simply felt so comfortably, so peaceful.

"I… love… you…" she whispered. It took impossible effort to say the words, but she forced them through her sluggish lips with a smile.

"I love you too," Ryan whispered back, "I love you so much, that's why you can't leave me, that's why you have to stay."

"You can't save her," Caleb's voice was in a comforting tone, but it fell on deaf ears. "Not this time. You've already helped her live longer than she should have. She should have died back in Tijuana, but she didn't, you saved her. You gave her more time; you loved her. You should feel comfort in that. Now let her go."

"No!" Ryan hissed over his shoulder.

"You can't cheat death, Ryan," Caleb would not give up.

But neither would Ryan. "Watch me," he growled in determination.

"Ryan?" Marissa murmured again. Her eyes were still open, but they weren't looking at him, they were roving blindly around the room, unseeing.

Ryan could feel it as though someone had taken a hold of her body and was beginning to pull her away from him. He felt her hand becoming oddly intangible under his grasp.

"No!" he pleaded, "No! Marissa, fight it, please; I know you can. Please don't leave me." His eyes filled with tears to the point where he could no longer make out her face. They began to stream down his face and he shut his eyes, clutching her hand with all his might. "Don't leave," he repeated, over and over again, "Please don't leave me. Please don't leave…"

_Come on baby  
Come on darling  
Let me steal this moment from you now  
Come on angel  
Come on, come on darling  
Let's exchange the experience, ooh..._

**To Be Continued…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey all. So sorry for the wait, but here it is, part two. Huge thanks to Samala90 for reviewing. Read, Review, Enjoy!**

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Kirsten sat in the dark hospital room, just like she had been doing for hours now. She stared in numb sorrow at the two still bodies laying each in their own bed, barely feet apart.

It was sometime in the early hours of the morning now. Sandy had left sometime ago, to deal with some legal issues or some such, Kirsten hadn't really asked. Julie had wandered off some time ago, muttering something about finding coffee and calling Jimmy. When she hadn't returned after nearly two hours, Kirsten had sent Summer and Seth to go track her down. And that left Kirsten alone, watching over the two comatose teenagers.

She could still hear the bewildered doctor reporting their condition in her mind. "The boy's fine," he'd said, "We can't figure out why he isn't waking up." Ryan was fine; he'd barely been scratched. "But the girl…" the doctor had continued, his tone a mixture of pity and sorrow, "We've done everything we can for her. Its only a matter of time now." The doctor's amazement could be clearly read on his face. Marissa should be dead, and Ryan should be perfectly fine, so why were they both comatose? That was the question he was asking himself, and no about of modern medicine could give him the answer.

But Kirsten knew. It was love, pure and simple. Ryan wasn't letting her go. He wouldn't let her go without him, but he couldn't follow her where she was going, so they were stuck in a stalemate. And their loved ones were forced to sit by their bedside and wait to see the outcome of Ryan verses Fate.

She was so deeply lost in thought that she didn't notice how much time passed. She didn't notice how her back ached from the uncomfortable hospital chair; she didn't notice the nurse come in every so often to check up on them. But she did notice when Ryan suddenly stir, shifting uneasily.

She was on her feet and beside him in seconds. The steady beep from the monitor changed as he moved again. A faint crease appeared between his eyebrows, so familiar to his adoptive mother. It was a look of worry, of concentration, but most of all, of determination.

That was the slow beginnings of chaos in that small hospital room. It started slowly, Ryan's monitor increasing steadily into a frenzied rhythm, as Marissa's began to slow. Ryan began to toss slightly, though he didn't seem to be waking. He shook violently as Marissa became stiller and stiller.

Then suddenly, his left hand shot out towards Marissa's bed beside him. His arm was barely long enough to bridge the gap, his fingertips just brushing her still hand, but it was enough. That slight touch was enough to shift her bed so that her hand fell, hanging limply over the side of the bed, where Ryan grabbed it.

He clung tightly to her hand, a single syllable passing between his lips. "No!" he whispered firmly.

Kirsten backed away slowly, unsure of what to do. The monitors were really going crazy now. At length she found her voice and yelled, "Help! Someone, come quick!"

A few minutes later several nurses appeared, then a doctor. They all began to flutter anxiously around the two beds, announcing things in worried voices to each other. Kirsten hardly understood what they were saying. Her eyes were fixed on Ryan and Marissa. Ryan was shaking more and more now, like he was having some sort of fit or something. Marissa wasn't moving, her face growing steadily paler. Kirsten knew exactly what was going on, but was powerless to help it. She could only watch, watch and pray with all her might.

One of the nurses tried to get Ryan to let go of Marissa's hand, but he only clung tighter. Several more were holding him down on the bed, a doctor attempting to inject him with some sort of sedation. Another doctor and several more nurses were desperately attempting to revive Marissa. But nothing they did changed anything, in either of the patients.

Ryan was holding to Marissa's hand so tightly that his fingernails dug into her skin, breaking it so that a small trickle of scarlet blood began to drip onto the linoleum floor.

"Hold… On…" Ryan's voice was hardly more than a breath whistling between his parted lips, but Kirsten heard it over the din, just as easily as if he had shouted. So did all the nurses and doctors. They all stopped, frozen in the power of the bond between the two teenagers. "Please…" Ryan pleaded softly for Marissa's life while everyone looked on.

But she was fading. Her heart rate slowing steadily as she grew paler and paler. Just as her heart had all but still, her hand suddenly tightened around his with a powerful strength. She didn't move otherwise, but she clung to him, clung desperately as though he was the only thing keeping her in this world, and he was. She held on to him so tightly that her fingernails broke the skin of his hand, just like his had hers. Then their blood was mingling, dripping slowly to the floor in one, inseparable crimson puddle.

And just as suddenly as the chaos had begun, it faded away. The monitors slowly returned to a steady rate. Ryan was still, Marissa was still, but both were still breathing.

In the silence that followed the spell that had been cast over the room broke. The nurses and doctors started to move again, buzzing wildly and checking their patients' vitals.

Slowly, Marissa stirred, turning her head as she did. She felt heavy and thick, and exhausted. Her eyes flickered open and she barely noticed the many hospital staff buzzing around her. No, she only had eyes for him, her savior. He too had his head turned to the side, towards her. His eyes were open, and he was smiling at her. He looked as tired as she felt, but happy, accomplished, relieved.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice raspy and weak as she returned his smile.

"Hey," he replied quietly.

8

Three days later they had been released from the hospital. As soon as everyone heard what had happened they had descended upon the two with passionate hugs and an over abundance of tears.

Ryan and Marissa smiled, and cried (Well, Marissa did), and hugged along with them. Only a few hours after they had woken up, the nurses had relented and been forced to push the beds closer together as Ryan and Marissa refused to let go of each other's hands. And even though Ryan was technically released from the hospital as soon as the doctors had run some tests to make sure he was all right, he refused to leave Marissa's side, even for a moment.

The night before Marissa was released Ryan lay in her bed with her, gently cradling her. It was late and the others had gone home, promising to return bright and earlier in the morning to escort her home, but Ryan, as usual, had refused to leave. The nurses had given up trying to make him.

"What are you thinking about?" Marissa asked quietly, breaking the long, comfortable silence that had enveloped them as she shifted to look up at him.

"You," he replied honestly, "The first time I saw you. Everything we've been through the past couple of years."

"Wow, that's a lot," she smiled slightly.

He nodded. "But it was worth it," he told her softly, kissing her gently.

"Really?" she asked, "Worth _everything_?"

He nodded again, grinning. "Everything," he whispered, "As long as I'm here now with you."

She blushed slightly. "I love you, Ryan," she whispered back, "I love you so much. You have no idea."

"I think I do," he told her, kissing her again, holding it longer this time, "Because I love you too, and I always will."

_And if I only could  
I'd make a deal with God…_

**The End.**


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